“I don’t want to do this,” he said simply.
Barra, knowing what he meant, shut her eyes. She knew he did not wish to risk her, and yet, since she was the only member of the party who seemed to know about Tam’s entrance, she had to be the one to lead them in.
“It is less dangerous to ride in than out,” she said.
He grinned. To her surprise, she saw his eyes were full of tears. “Oh, Barra,” he said softly, and he stroked her hair. They had both dismounted, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close against him. She tightened her grasp on him, pulling him close, wanting to never let him go.
She whispered his name, pressing him to her as if she wanted to remember the outline of his body forever. His skin smelled of smoke and sweat and she buried her face in his neck, wanting every detail of him to be imprinted on her forever.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too,” she said, and reached up to stroke his cheek.
Then, her eyes filled with tears, she walked over to where Keith was beckoning her, before she forgot herself completely. She had a job to do, and there was no way to back out of it now.
Into The Castle
Brodgar sat his horse at the edge of the slope. It was nightfall, the sky still red where the sun had sunk on the western slopes.
“Barra, go safely,” he whispered.
He watched the first rank of men – the ones who had elected or drawn lots to be part of the attack party – as they rode towards the walls. Barra was with them.
He could see her back, straight in silhouette. Her hair was as dark as the rest of her now, hidden in the obscuring dusk light.
The sight of her riding away was almost more than he could bear. He shivered, trying to think of all the other things that he had to do. He was in charge here – the only reason he couldn’t go with her.
“Go, men,” he whispered, and the next ten rode behind her group. They had agreed to go in two smaller groups, so that, if the first party were apprehended, the second men could still risk finding another way into the castle. On this side, around the back of the walls, there was no sign of the force Keith had described. It seemed almost impossible they would be apprehended from here.
Maybe, he thought with wry amusement, the troops didn’t exist. At this point, he could wish it to be another lie.
“Sir?” a voice called. He whipped around, finding himself face to face with Luke.
“Yes?” he asked his chief supporter among the troops. He could have wished Luke was going with Barra – he was the one person he trusted here. All the same, he needed him with him to help command the rest.
“I need to explain to the men what we do when that lot reach the castle.”
Brodgar nodded. He hadn’t told Luke or anybody else that Barra was leading – the only people who knew were the twenty who had ridden already. He wished that Luke did know – he might be less callous about their fate, if he knew Barra was there.
“Yes,” he said, putting aside his own fears. “I want you to wait until you hear the bell ring. Then, we are to pour from around the sides to harry them on their flanks. With the missiles thrown from the castle walls, they will break and run. We just need to make sure they can’t spread out too much.”
“Fine,” Luke nodded crisply. “A fine plan, Lord Brodgar.”
Brodgar looked down. He and Barra had planned it together, but he couldn’t risk telling the men that. Not yet, anyway. He looked up at Luke. “Wait for the signal,” he reminded him.
“Yes, sir.”
The night settled down to an awful, waiting silence.
Brodgar rode at the head of the group, his horse pacing restlessly. He knew the horse was responding to his own fears and discomfort, but he couldn’t help it.
He was desperately worried for Barra.
A noise made him look up. He could just make out the shapes of the riders, lost about fifty feet away in the gloom at the hilltop. He saw a ghost-like shape ride up, followed by another. His heart stopped. Had they found a way in?
Not so fast, he told himself. Don’t be so certain.
He felt his horse start to pace, and did nothing to stop him. He glanced down the slope as another rider came up toward him.
“I want to talk on behalf of your uncle.”
Brodgar nodded curtly as he recognized his uncle’s right hand man. “As you will,” he said. “What is it?”
“He has agreed to take the men to the left flank,” he said smoothly. Brodgar felt his brow lift. He wasn’t sure if he trusted that or not. He was especially not sure, he realized as he looked at him, if he trusted Callum. A thought – uncomfortable and unpleasant – worked at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.
“I will be pleased for his assistance,” Brodgar said instead. “If he wishes to meet with me?”
“I will convey your words to his lordship,” Callum said smoothly.
Brodgar felt a twist of unease in his stomach. “It is straightforward,” he said. “Wait until the bell, then harry their left flank. I want no men coming around to try and assail the fortress from here.”
“As you say, sir,” Callum nodded.
Brodgar watched him ride away, carrying the information to his uncle. The uneasy feeling about Callum grew and began to gnaw on his mind. On that night of the confusion, he had been closest to the fray. Why had he seen nothing?
“Callum?” he called.
The man was already too far away, and there was no point, he thought, in asking questions. He rode back to his post at the head of the men and stared up at the dark bulky shadows of the castle.
He waited, in agonizing silence, for the bell to ring.
He was looking into the darkness, counting his men, trying to make out if the three who sat on the ground and argued among themselves in whispers were playing with stones or dice, when he heard a sound.
The bell was ringing. Pure, deep and sonorous, it rang out across the silent night with a pure, striking sound.
“Men!” he called out into the intermittent silence. “Make haste!”
The group around him were suddenly transformed into a hive of activity. Men swarmed left and right, forming up into two troops. They moved in surprising silence, for all that they were a group of thirty heavily-armed men. He watched as they split into two, the left group riding behind his uncle.
He felt a shiver of unease as his uncle’s men set off downhill. Raising his arm, feeling a twist of horror in his stomach as he thought of Barra’s whereabouts, he called out.
“To the right, men! Behind me.”
He led them around the right side of the castle, feeling the gravelly path and the way the stones slid and clattered down the slope. On this side, the ground fell away sharply into a valley too sheltered from the rain to grow much greener. He could see nothing in the dark, only hear the clatter of feet on gravelly stones.
The bell stopped ringing as they reached their position. Brodgar felt his stomach twist painfully. Barra! Something was wrong!
“Men!” he shouted. He resisted the urge to ride back. Most of his mind convinced him that she’d been killed, that something had gone wrong, that she hadn’t managed to carry out the plan. Then, he also knew her. He also trusted her.
“Sir?” Burnell, one of his trusted guardsmen, asked from behind him.
“When the first rock strikes them, we ride.”
He waited, wondering if it would work. His uncle said they had a siege engine in the castle. He had no idea when it had been used last, or even if any of the men still knew how to load it. He felt sick and wished that he had never thought to follow through with this crazy plan in the first place.
“Barra…” he whispered, as if he could call her back now. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. It was the hardest thing he thought he had ever done.
The night was utterly silent. Somewhere the wind whistled through leaves. Stones scattered down the slope as someone stepped back. There were no other sounds
besides the men’s breathing.
Thunk.
Suddenly, a tumultuous, huge noise shook the ground. It was less of a sound, and more of a sensation, as if the stone below their feet had rattled. Brodgar jumped, then heard the gasp of the men around him, and suddenly, his heart soaring, he understood.
“The ballista! Attack!”
He lifted his sword, riding forward on his horse, leading the charge down the plain towards the enemy.
The men with him were roaring at the tops of their voices, the charge gaining speed. There were only fifteen of them, and it occurred to Brodgar that this might be the final trap. He had, after all, no idea how many men waited down there at the foot of the slope.
He heard the men shouting the name of their clan – his clan. He felt his heart soar. In that second, he would not have cared for his fate. He could have died, and been content.
Almost content.
“Barra!” he screamed.
It was his war cry, his reason for staying alive. He felt as if his heart would burst, holding that much sensation. He had to get back. He had to see her again. It was his reason for being here.
He felt the impact as he hit into the front ranks of men. He was holding a lance, and it thundered into the first ranks of men, splintering a shield. Brodgar felt his teeth almost sink through his lip as he tried not to fall. His arm was aching all the way to his elbow. He grunted and looked away, casting his eye across the battlefield.
He could see fire in the camp, and by the light he could see the men who rode with his uncle. They were falling on the right flank of the force, and he felt his heart soar. They were fighting as fiercely as any of his own men. At least that meant this was a real attack.
“Forward!” he yelled.
He had parted the ragged line of men that blocked his path, and his own men were pouring through the gap. He could hear the sounds of fighting and he took the chance to pause and look around.
He could see by the firelight across the line of men fighting, and realized that it was only one row deep. On the right, the fighting was a little thicker, but the force that had surrounded the castle was not nearly large enough to actually besiege them long.
He looked around at the madness and felt at once sickened by it and glad it was almost over.
“To me!” he shouted to the men on both sides. “Join up!”
He rode back towards the center of the line, but the besiegers were already fleeing. The men who had followed him were already walking forward to join him. He could see how weary they all were. The sun had long ago set completely, and it was only the flame light that was illuminating the scene.
He waited while they approached. The men who had ridden with his uncle were still finishing off, but the besiegers were fleeing. He leaned forward on his horse, resting his arms on the pommel of his saddle. He was exhausted. He could barely sit up, but he had to find the energy from somewhere.
“Men!” he cried out as they gathered. Soot-covered, weary and sore, they came to gather around him. He lifted his sword, seeking the words to give them heart. All that he could think of – the thing that crashed through his weary mind like waves – was that Barra had done this.
“Men,” he shouted, as the last weary men came to join him – followed, distantly, by his uncle. “We have routed our foes. We return to our home knowing that we succeeded. You have all done great things today. We have suffered and striven, and I think you should be very proud.”
He heard the men give a loud cheer. He felt his own body vibrate with renewed strength. He looked around at them, his own face shining. He was truly exhausted, he had barely anything more to give. Yet the feeling of rejoicing that filled him needed more words. He was pausing, waiting to think of what to say, when the gates opened.
He stared as she walked through.
Barra.
The garrison who had stayed to defend the castle – perhaps ten men – followed her out. She walked across the dusty, ash-stained ground and he felt his heart sing.
“This is the person who made all this possible!” He held his sword out, gesturing towards her. “Without her bravery and courage, we would not have been able to do this! We did this together.”
He heard the men cheer and he saw her look up at him. The flame light danced in her eyes and she stared up with her hair falling loose around her.
He lifted his sword and the men cheered again, and Barra stood there, her astonishment rooting her to the spot. He felt his heart ache. The men’s talk and congratulations were starting to become riotous, as they talked and embraced each other, pouring across the open space towards the castle.
Brodgar threw his leg across the saddle and climbed down. His ankles jarred and he realized how tired he was when he discovered he could hardly walk. However, he felt his soul soar as he reached for her, wrapping her arms around her and holding her close.
She held him tight and he knew that he had never been so happy.
Finding Answers
The castle was in uproar as Barra walked in through the gate. She felt herself stiffen in the gateway, looking around to wait a moment for Brodgar. He nodded to her and they walked in together.
“Lord Brodgar!” a soldier shouted, and the cry went up as they walked in.
“Lord Brodgar! Lord Brodgar!”
Barra felt her face warm with pride and joy as she walked in with him. She felt so proud to be walking beside him. The courtyard was dark, but there were torches lit in sconces in the walls, and the light seemed to warm her whole body. She stopped in the doorway of the great hall, the crowds so tight about them that she did not want to risk another step.
She felt Brodgar’s hand on hers and she took a step forward. She looked over her shoulder and saw him smiling back at her.
The great hall was in utter uproar. There were men sitting at the benches drinking ale, while others ran through with buckets of water, putting out a small fire that had sprang up near the tower. Brodgar stood in the center of the hall and cleared his throat. His hand did not leave Barra’s.
“Men!” he shouted. “We have cause for celebration. We have repelled those who sought to overcome us!”
Barra winced as the deafening roars went up. She thought it was remarkable how fast the folk of the castle had taken to revelry – it had been barely a moment ago that they were fighting off the invaders!
She shut her eyes, recalling that time. They had been so certain that it was impossible. She had been almost afraid to suggest that they did anything, so despairing were they. Tam had found her shortly after she entered, and she was surprised as her eye fell on him now, somewhere among the men clustered around the long tables.
“We have need to plan ahead, once we have celebrated,” Brodgar reminded the men. “This attack could be repeated again. Next time, we must be ready.”
“Aye!” a man shouted in agreement. The hall went up in shouts of assent around them, and the thuds of men beating on wooden tabletops. Barra wondered how much louder it would have to be before all the shouting made her deaf. Beside her, Brodgar seemed impervious, standing firm against the tumultuous cries.
“We need to be united,” Brodgar added. “We need to look to our safety first, and skirmishes second.”
“Brodgar!” somebody shouted, and soon the whole hall was making a song of his name, shouting it again and again until the vaulted roof seemed to echo.
“Brodgar! Brodgar!”
Barra put her hands up as if to shield her ears, and beside her she felt Brodgar turn to look down at her. He had the same gentle look in his eyes and it seemed as if there were only the two of them present, not as if they stood together in a hall where he had just been made commander of the garrison.
She thought he did not look as elated as some men would at that fact. She wondered why and then realized what it was. His uncle would not take well to this.
Where is he?
She glanced around the room, trying to spot the laird. She couldn’t see him among the shouting,
reveling men at the benches. She turned to look through the doors behind them, but at that moment Brodgar whispered to her.
“He’s still outside. I think we should go, once they have settled down in here.”
Barra nodded slowly. She felt a twist of nausea in the pit of her stomach. She knew that they had to address this problem before they did anything else. She waited until Brodgar had quieted the men, and then turned to go.
“Celebrate and make free tonight!” Brodgar encouraged his men. “Tomorrow, we will address matters to keep the castle strong.”
The shouts went up and continued, as men flocked to the tables, coming in from outside. A smell of damp and smoke followed the defenders in, and Barra guessed that the fire had finally been put out. Exhausted, she followed Brodgar into the courtyard.
“Where are we going?” she asked, as he headed up to the colonnade. She had thought he would go to find his uncle, who was standing in the practice ground, a group of men – perhaps ten of them in all – gathered around him.
“I will not speak with him now,” he said, and he stood back so that she could enter the castle with him. They used a door she’d never seen opened before – a small one that led into a corridor lit by torches.
“Where are we going?” she repeated, as he walked along the hallway and towards a staircase. She felt her heart thud with a mix of nerves and wonderment.
“We need to rest,” he said.
Barra felt delicious chills creep up her body as he said it. They were standing halfway up the steps and the torch flame flickered on his hair, making him as beautiful as a painting of some long ago king. She let the low tone of his words thrum through her body and ached to do as he suggested – to follow him up the steps and collapse on the bed with him.
“Brodgar,” she whispered in his ear as he drew her firmly to him. As much as her body was igniting with her need of him, still there was a warning in her ears. She risked a great deal if she went with him – if she were to end up with child, and then he died, or could not honor his responsibilities to them, then…
Protection By Her Deceptive Highlander (Iron 0f The Highlands Series Book 5) Page 16
